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I. Do. Not. Want. To. Go. To. Work. Today.
Sasha Blaze
sedens
End of PSA.

I'm still hoping a friend-of-a-friendslist-friend will be able to shed some light on Feral Boy's sculptor. Yoohoo? Hellooooo out there?

Also, I'm taking suggestions for a tattoo, since I'm thinking one might be a nice addition to the Feral Body. Spent some time yesterday evening looking at tattoo design websites; most of them struck me as cheesy, so I'm leaning toward a discreet kanji message on the shoulder blade, though which one(s)? Or possibly a dragon biting its tail around his thigh? (Apologies to anyone here who loves elaborate multicolored pictorial tattoos. I'm a minimalist geometric sort of gal myself.)

What I would rather do, instead of going to work:

* finish reading the mystery I'm in the middle of, A Dead Man in Istanbul.

*start reading Across the Nightingale Floor.

*start reading 44 Scotland Street, because I miss Edinburgh and it's too long since I've been back to visit.

*sew together the pieces of the cardigan I knitted for Claudine way back in October.

*darn in the loose ends on the ribbed turtleneck I knitted for Claudine way back in January.

*take pictures of Lyon in his sharp new striped shirt and tan pants from Tensiya.

*order big white wings for Kanbei from Volks. I have a vision here.

But it's ten after seven, and I really need to get dressed if I'm not planning to be long after my usual time at the office.

Edited from work because I'm still cranky and need some pretty to cheer myself up. Herewith, some pretty that many of you have already seen, but still . . .

Sejong says "go away."


Etienne says "hello."


There. That's better.

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I love having too many fun things to choose from . . . on the other hand, I HATE having a list that looks like my real must-do for today. It's just as long, but I don't want to do any of the things on it. Bah.

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